


The Life of His Deskmate

by Eryis



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Based off prompt, Criminal Family! Oracion Seis, Fights, Gay Romance, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Non graphic violence, One Shot, Photographer! Freed, Reporter! Laxus, Superhero! Freed, mentions of guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 16:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18608107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryis/pseuds/Eryis
Summary: Laxus Dreyar: Reporter for the Fairy Tail newspaper and member of the Raijinshuu, the most elite group of investigative journalists in Magnolia. When trying to bring down the criminal family he and his team had been working on for months, he finds himself on the wrong end of a gun and is saved by someone who's existence he had doubted. A superhero vigilante.This begins a spiral of events that causes new feelings to be brought to the surface, dangerous risks to be taken, and realisations that Laxus will make about the life of his deskmate.





	The Life of His Deskmate

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the tumblr user Aphtoris, who was very kind to let me write this based off [their post](https://aphtoris.tumblr.com/post/184316055893/au-where-freed-justine-is-a-crime-fighting). Please check out [their blog](https://aphtoris.tumblr.com/) for some other headcanons and ideas, both for Fairy Tail and some other fanbases you might know.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for any comments and kudos you leave. They mean so much. And I've got a [Tumblr.](https://eryis-creydull.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading. ^.^

****

**~~~**

**The Life of His Deskmate**

**_Friday, July 19th, 2019, Late Night_ **

The first time Laxus laid eyes on Magnolia's supposed superhero, he had been somewhat spectacle of his existence. He had heard the rumours – everybody had – but nobody could get a good picture or even give a consistent description, so it was hard to see the story as anything other than, well, a story.

It becomes harder to deny a stories existence when confronted with it face to face, though.

Their meeting occurred by happenstance. Being an investigative reporter forced Laxus into situations that could put him at risk, something he had long since accepted. He and his team – named the Raijinshuu to only themselves – had become known for publishing scathing exposés that revealed the illegal activities of important people and companies throughout the company. Doing this meant that, from time to time, they needed to put themselves in a very real firing line. This was one such time.

They had received multiple anonymous tips against the Oración Seis family. Weapons dealing, high levels of drug trafficking, and god knows what else. He and his team had almost got enough to create a full story but knew that the family had enough influence in the city to refute any claims against them without irrefutable evidence being shown. Evidence that Laxus needed to get.

He hadn't made his findings known to anyone other than his team, meaning it was practically impossible for members of the family to know he was looking into them. Or that he existed at all; they all seemed to have the 'it won't happen to me' arrogance.

This gave Laxus the ability to sit in the same bar as one of the family members – Racer – without being noticed. Laxus wouldn't say that the man was the weak link in the family, but he was the most easily riled up and quick to run his mouth. Any time the family had gotten in trouble before, it was usually because he had let something out after spewing a stream of bullshit and something serious had snuck its way in. Nothing overly serious before, maybe something a little controversial, but their illegal activities were never revealed.

This was something Laxus intended to change. He hoped that he could watch the guy plough himself with alcohol, introduce himself and create a drunken bond, and then subtly probe him until he revealed something important. It wasn't the most moral kind of journalism, admittedly, but illegal weapon dealings weren't moral either. Laxus wouldn't lose sleep.

"Another vodka, darling," Laxus heard Racer demand of the obviously annoyed bartender.

The blonde wasn't yet ready to strike yet. It was barely eleven and, after snooping on the man's Twitter account for half an hour, it was obvious that he was the type of guy that would stay until the early hours of the morning drinking. Logic dictates that the longer the drinks, the drunker he gets and the more likely it'll be for him to reveal something. All Laxus needed to do was wait.

As he did so, he heard the small nagging doubt playing in the back of his mind. The voice that told him maybe setting a trap for a known affiliate of an arm dealer and criminal organisation wasn't smart. That he would have a weapon, and this could all go bad very quick. He shut that voice out.

In his work, Laxus was insistent that he did the best he possibly could. At the start, this was because he felt that he hadn't earned his position at the newspaper, as his grandfather owned the company and really had given him the job. Once he felt he had got his place deservedly, he felt a sense of obligation to continue doing the work. There was a lot of shit happening and not many people could find out who was doing it and to what extent. Laxus could, so he should.

God, that sounded so patronising every time he thought about it. The whole 'greater good' thing didn't completely suit him.

Still, that was why he was there. It was plainly obvious that this family were knowingly breaking the law in a way that could and did kill people, and Laxus needed to let people know. They could only publish this once and if the Oración Seis found a loophole, their work would be made useless. That was why he was in the damn bar, ignoring the voice that told him there was a better way to do this.

A voice that sounded like his damn photographer, Freed.

The cautiousness that Freed was taking with this story was unusual. Freed hadn't been scared of anything they'd tackled since being partnered together – and if he had, he hid it damn well. But recently, he was advising Laxus, Bickslow and Evergreen to be more cautious.

In fact, he'd been acting different for a little while now. His punctuality had slipped, not to the extent that he could be in trouble, but seeing the man come late three times in a week when it hadn't happened before was an odd occurrence. Laxus had wanted to broach the topic with his friend a few times, but had always been distracted by the story. Still, he was probably seeing an issue where there wasn't one; being a journalist made you more inclined to pessimism and distrust. More so when Laxus had started to consider maybe changing his relationship with Freed to something more-

Shit.

Having let his eyes stray from Racer's place at the bar, he only just managed to see him walking towards the door to the establishment. Laxus allowed his eyebrows to tighten slightly; from what he knew of the man, on his nights out he would pick a bar, drain it of all its vodka and call it a night. That certainly wouldn't happen this early in the night.

Before moving, Laxus let his eyes stray to the table the man had just left. He had been the only one who had left, meaning the group itself hadn't become tired of this bar and wanted to leave, and Racer constantly boasted about being the life of the party on his social media. So him leaving the group went against everything that he had found out about the man. Perhaps against his better judgement, Laxus stood up from the table he sat at, placed down the glass of scotch he had been nursing, and walked towards the exit of the bar.

After leaving, he looked down the semi-crowded streets of Magnolia. It took him a few moments of looking over the heads of people to find his target; no member of the Oración Seis could blend into a crowd, thankfully. He watched as Racer turned into an alley, and the blonde found his curiosity peak.

He quickly pushed his way though the crowds and towards the alleyway that Racer had retreated into. When he turned the corner, he saw that Racer was leaning against a wall, having walked past a dumpster and seemingly on his phone. Laxus approached slowly, unable to deny he was enjoying this.

'Come on, bastard.' Laxus thought to himself as he pulled out his voice recorder. 'Give me something.'

Crouching behind the dumpster, Laxus tried to remain as invisible as possible. He couldn't hear what he was saying, and even if his recorder could pick it up, Laxus needed to know now so that he could know if he had enough that he could leave. Against all hygienic logic, he leant forward and rested his head against the dumpster, he could just make out what he was saying.

"Yeah, I'll be there on time," He sounded annoyed. "Just trust me for once, fucks sake Cobra."

Laxus' eyes widened a little. Cobra was the name of one of his brothers, and the tone in which he was speaking sounded suggested that, whatever they're talking about, it was something important. The fact he needed to go into some crappy, unoccupied alleyway to have this conversation made it seem even more suspicious.

Racer shifted his position slightly, making it harder to Laxus to hear him again. The blonde shifted his position again, in an attempt to counter it. His eyes widened slightly as he felt his foot come into contact with something. The clanking of a bottle against concreate came seconds after.

Fuck.

A moment of silence occurred, and Laxus winced in anticipation, willing Racer to continue talking. That didn't happen, however, and a moment later the metal dumpster was shoved towards him, hitting him directly on the head with a large amount of force. Laxus was pushed back and let out a small exclamation of pain, fully giving out his position to the criminal who shared the alleyway with him.

The moment he heard footsteps nearing him, he slid the recorder into his back pocket. He needed to record this and, if Racer saw that he had a recorder, he would either destroy it or make sure not to say anything incriminating. This could be his last chance to get these bastard, he couldn't fuck it up.

But the second he saw Racer, his priorities changed completely. He was holding a gun, aiming it directly at Laxus, and the sneer on his face told Laxus that it wasn't just for show. The blonde felt his breath hitch slightly. Sure, he had been in dangerous situations before, but never had he had a gun pointed at him by a dangerous man who would almost defiantly pull the trigger if even slightly antagonised.

"Up," Racer demanded, his voice stern. "Now."

Laxus did as he was told, standing slowly and placing his hands in the air. He tried not to be annoyed by the smirk on the bastards face, and kept his own expressions neutral. The fact he hadn't been shot yet meant there was a chance of him getting out of this unscathed. He just needed to be careful.

"Walk," Racer said, motioning to where he had just been standing with his head. Laxus slowly did so, knowing that Racer was doing this so no random passer-by could see the gun.

The moment Laxus was standing with his back against the wall, his lower half covered by the dumpster, Jet stood close and pushed the gun into his stomach. Laxus tensed as he felt the weapon pressing against him, though managed to keep eye contact with the man holding him there. He needed to fund a way out of this, but Racer seemed to be somewhat of a professional at this. Still, some kind of an opening would present itself, he just needed to wait until that happened.

"Empty your pockets," Racer pushed the gun further against Laxus' stomach. The blonde moved slowly, removing his keys, wallet and phone from his front pocket. They were all tossed to the side without much care. "Don't fuck me around, blondie. Whatever the hell was in your back pocket, give it to me."

So he had seen it, fuck. Laxus slowly pulled the recorder out from his back pocket and handed it to Racer, who actually fucking laughed. Instead of tossing it to the side like he had with everything else, he dropped it in front of them both. He pushed the gun against Laxus further and grinned. He then raised his foot and crushed the device completely.

"Whoops," He spoke with arrogance. "How clumsy of me."

Laxus noticed that, as he bragged, the pushing of the gun against his stomach became looser. He glanced down for a second to see that his finger wasn't resting against the trigger anymore. This could be the only opening he got.

He quickly pushed forward, shocking the man enough for Laxus to barge his shoulder into his chest. Getting the gun away from Racer was the main priority, so he grabbed the man's wrist while slamming his back against the man's torso, pushing back and haphazardly pinning him against the wall of the alley. He tried to pry the gun from the man's hand, but the bastard seemed to had a grip of steel.

Knowing that it wouldn't be long until Racer managed to catch up in the fight, Laxus started to slam his elbow into the other man's stomach repeatedly, still holding the man's wrist so that at least he couldn't aim the weapon.

During the inelegant wrestling, Laxus was unaware that Racer had managed to place his finger onto the trigger of the gun again. He pulled it without care for where it was aiming, and the deafeningly loud ringing sound filled the alleyway and made Laxus stumble slightly; fuck that was so much louder than he could have expected. Racer seemed shocked by this too, as his grip on the weapon loosened slightly. The blonde lurched forward and grabbed it, prying the mans hands off it and tossing it into the dumpster; if Racer attempted to get it back, he would have to leave himself vulnerable while doing so.

Now without the weapon being part of the fight, Laxus was given the ability to step back and catch his breath. He raised his fists in a somewhat defensive position. He didn't get into fights often and wouldn't consider himself an expert, but Racer shouldn't be difficult to overpower now.

"Ain't as big without the gun, huh?" Laxus grinned a little.

"You think you can push me around," Racer snarled, face angered at the removal of his weapon. "I will fucking ruin you if you so much as touch me."

Perhaps running on adrenaline and being blinded to good sense, but the threat fell on deaf ears. Laxus launched himself forward and planted his fist into the man's cheek, the feeling of his knuckles against jawbone both satisfying and painful. Perhaps the punch was somewhat therapeutic, given his in-depth knowledge on practically all the horrendous things that this family had done or had been directly responsible for.

He went to send another punch flying through the air, but found his arm restrained part way through the attack. He looked around to see a large man had grabbed him, one of the same men that had been sitting with Racer. Either the length of the wait or the gunshot must have alerted his group to what was happening.

Before Laxus could react further, another arm wrapped around him in restraint. He tried to pull against it but the grip was harsh and unwavering, leaving him no wiggle room to escape. He looked towards Racer to see that he was smugly walking towards him. Bastard.

"Knife," The criminal demanded to one of his underlings. "Now."

Although he couldn't see it, Laxus assumed that one of the group had pulled out a knife that he had concealed on his person, and handed it to Racer. Laxus looked up to see that, indeed, Racer had taken a knife and was now brandishing it. The knife was nasty looking too, serrated and bouncing back the blight from the nearby streetlamp. The expression on Racer's face told Laxus that he was no longer willing to show mercy. He should have run while he had the chance.

"I assume you're a reporter," Racer said as he walked forward, resting the tip of the knife against his finger and twirling it. "I wonder if your colleagues will find it hard. Writing about your death, I mean. It'll make quite the story for your company."

With every step, Laxus found his heartbeat increase and his fear get larger. Now with what he estimated was four people holding him back, and an aggressive criminal advancing on him, the blonde realised that he should have listened to the voice in his head, and Freed earlier in the day, and should have thought about other ways to get the confession. Not that regret was doing much to help him.

"It's a shame you had to sacrifice yourself for it to happen," Racer taunted, grabbing the knife properly now. "Don't worry, I'll make it fa-"

Racer's words were cut off without warning, a rush of darkness seemingly streaming down from above and landing directly onto the criminal. Laxus watched with furrowed eyebrows as he saw that a man had landed onto Racer from above, assumedly having jumped from one of the buildings. There was silence for a moment as both Laxus and the criminals tried to assess what had actually just happened to the leader of the group.

Now standing before them was the supposed vigilante of Magnolia. Wearing a long, deep red coat and black mask, with vibrant green and black hair raised slightly. He was taller than most, sporting an obviously athletic physique and what seemed to be a well-crafted, perhaps handsome jawline; Laxus assumed that the rest of the man's face would be the same. Though his eyes were covered, his expression was obviously stern and serious, and Laxus found solace in this.

He had been saved. By someone who, until this point, he had surmised as a myth.

The vigilante didn't pay any attention to either Laxus nor the men holding him, probably seeing Racer as the main threat. He brought his hand to the criminals neck, and Laxus could do nothing but watch as the very same hand mutated, became covered in thick oily fur and adorned claws. He lifted Racer off the ground with this new claw, growled at him wordlessly and threw him to the side.

This action was seemingly enough to snap the men holding him out of their trance. Two sets of hands left him and two men walked towards the masked man. He turned to them, face still enigmatic, and brought his hands to a fighting position. Only one of his hands had changed form, it seemed.

While Laxus' fight with Racer had been sloppy and born from necessity, the hero's movements were fluid, smooth and almost elegant. They were too fast for Laxus to see anything with full certainty, but he could see the hero juggling the fight with both men with apparent ease, as if the fight had been choreographed in advance and they were all executing some violent dance that they all knew by heart. It was practically hypnotic.

After being pushed back into the wall by the hero, one of Racer's men pulled out a similar knife from a pocket and charged towards the vigilante. Seeing this, the hero raised his untransformed hand and placed it onto the man's chest. Laxus watched as the hero's eyes glowered purple for a moment and shapes formed on the criminal's chest. A moment later, the man began to roar in pain and scratch the shapes on his chest, as if desperately trying to peel them off of his body. Laxus watched with wide eyes, not sure what was happening.

With one of the two attacking men now seemingly incapacitated, the hero turned his attention to the other. He grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, now using his demonic hand, and raised him into the air. He slammed him down hard, his head hitting the side of the dumpster with a nauseating clank.

"Racer," A voice yelled from behind Laxus.

The blonde felt the remaining hands that restrained him disappear. He looked over his shoulder to see the two unharmed men run towards their boss, help him up and run to a car that had parked with the doors open beside the alleyway. The scrambled into the vehicle quickly, the tires screeching on the road the moment the door was closed, the men quickly driving off into the distance. Laxus found himself relaxing slightly, looking towards the vigilante as he caught his breath.

"Shit," He heard the vigilante mutter. His voice was slightly echoed and distorted, as if he had changed his voice on a computer.

He looked over his shoulder towards the two men that had attacked him. One was staggering to his feet, blood dripping from his head where it had hit the dumpster; shit, Laxus only just realised the man's skull had dented the damn metal. The other man had fallen to his knees, now screaming.

The vigilante raised his untransformed hands, and his eyes glowed purple again. Walls of the same shape-like letters occurred, this time forming completely around the two men. They seemed to create a translucent wall around them, a theory which was confirmed when bleeding man tried to charge at the hero with his knife but was stopped by the glowing letters. Laxus wordlessly watched as the hero raised a finger to his ear and started to speak.

"Sixty-eight street alleyway. Two men. Both contained, one concussed. Also a witness, he may be shaken up. Be quick." The hero spoke, assumedly into an earpiece.

Laxus watched as the hero started to walk down the alleyway, towards where the car had sped off from. He looked down at the tire tracks that had formed, only to see them disappear a little way down the road. The car itself had also gone, leaving no sign as to where they had ended up. The vigilante looked towards Laxus.

"The police are coming; they'll want a statement. Stay until they dismiss you," He demanded of Laxus, who finally found it in himself to speak.

"Sure. Erm, thanks for, well… thanks," He blundered slightly, looking at the man.

The transformation had gone now, and Laxus was afforded a better look at the man. The mask, though doing a shockingly good job at making him unidentifiable, showed clearly that he had chiselled facial features. He sweated slightly, though his pale skin wasn't overly reddened by the activity. His left eye glowed purple slightly and he seemed to be analysing him. All in all, he was pretty good looking.

"The leader of that group is an influential criminal," The hero said, walking back into the alley. Laxus couldn't help but follow him. "You shouldn't have attacked him. He would have killed you without me being there."

"Yeah, I know," Laxus muttered slightly. "I didn't wanna attack him. Bastard pulled a gun on me after he found me recording him. Trying to get him to confess on tape."

"So you knew he was dangerous, and you thought it was wise to follow him into a secluded alley unarmed and in the middle of the night," The hero asked as he placed his hand on the wall he had created. The letters on the roaring man's chest disappeared. "To know that much about him, you must be smart. Why do something so remarkably stupid?"

"'Cause if I got a confession, I could publish and stop their bullshit," Laxus explained, looking at the two contained men with confusion.

"I suppose that's justifiable," The vigilante sighed. "Don't make a habit of it, Mr Dreyar."

Laxus nodded, but stopped himself half way. He frowned and looked towards the hero as he walked down the alley. "How do you know my name?"

The vigilante didn't stop walking, but he did look over his shoulder with what seemed to be a smile on his face. "I'm an avid reader of your work, Mr Dreyar. I'm sure I'll enjoy your story on the Oración Seis when it's done. If you make sure you live long enough to publish it, of course."

The blonde could do nothing as the man before him disintegrated into the same lettering that contained the two criminals. Almost the exact moment the man was gone, a police car stopped at the end of the alley again and two police officers left the vehicle, looking towards the contained men and then Laxus himself. As they approached him, Laxus finally caught up with the reality of what just happened, and only one word could surmise his feelings.

"Fuck."

* * *

**_Saturday July 20th, 2019, Mid Morning._ **

Freed walked into the lobby of Fairy Tail News with a thermos of coffee in one hand, and a half eaten bagel in the other. He awkwardly placed his pass against the scanning pad that granted his access further than the reception desk, and took another bite of his breakfast, fighting back a yawn as he waited at the elevator with a few colleagues he couldn't identify by name; the Raijinshuu often kept to themselves in work.

As he stepped into the thankfully uncrowded elevator, he leant against the cool metal and willed it to wake him up somewhat. Though he had good reason to be tired, he would rather it not affect his productivity in the work that actually allowed him money.

In reality, his new found pseudo-occupation as vigilante hadn't affected his body clock all too dramatically. Whereas previously he had retired for the night around one in the morning most of the time, he now slept at four. He would now wake up at eight and rush his morning routine to get to work at nine, whereas previously he would wake at six and slowly make his way through his activities; meaning he only lost one hour of sleep. The time spent on the streets also did the job of his late afternoon workout, meaning the time lost in the morning could be recuperated by no longer going to the gym. So, he hadn't so much as gained morning tiredness than shunted it forward so that it occurred at work.

That didn't make it any less obnoxious to be professional when he first sits as his desk, however.

When the elevator arrives at his floor, he leaves and slowly walks to his office. He only speaks to Mirajane and Levy, both of who he is sociable with as they had previously had desks either side of him before his promotion. He then walked into the Raijinshuu's secluded office space, sat himself at his desk and allowed himself some time to relax.

He was the first to be there, as usual. Bickslow and Evergreen would come later, having a later start to the day but also a later end. Laxus should be here but, as his punctuality would always act in direct coloration to his mood, so he would almost never arrive at nine exactly. This would either mean he had been in an hour earlier than needed and had always started his work, or would be late and they would later receive a visit from the blonde's grandfather. To his credit though, the time spent working overtime always made up for his lateness in the end.

This worked well for Freed as well, as whenever Laxus was late it allowed Freed a few moments of respite before the working day truly began.

Although technically he was only the photographer for the group, he did a lot more for the group. Not only would he take and prepare the photographs so they could be used, he would also read through all proposed stories both for structural and story issues; the serious nature of many of the stories they covered meant his subjective critique was just as needed as the editors objective one.

Lazily sipping his coffee as he slid his camera's SD card into his computer, Freed began to think back over the previous night. Particularly, his alter-ego's first encounter with Laxus. The same Laxus who sat directly opposite him.

Although Laxus was an excellent reporter who could easily pick out something a regular person would miss, he doubted Laxus knew it was him who had been his saviour. The biggest consistence between Freed and his vigilante self was his hair, which he doubted Laxus would have picked up on. Whereas the alter-ego had bright green hair with black streaks throughout that hung loose, Freed's normal hair was considerably more muted in it's green colour as well as tied up high in a pony tail. That, combined with the mask, change of eye colour, costume, and the absurdity that someone you know well could hide that he has demonic powers should keep his identity secret enough.

This was also the reason Freed, as his alter-ego, had mentioned reading Laxus' stories. If Laxus were to consider Freed being the vigilante, he would assume that Freed would cut off any connection to knowing him. doing the opposite would lead Laxus to confusion and would hopefully make him second-guess his conclusion.

Freed didn't know if his spells could alter someone's memory. And if they could, he didn't know if he could morally use it on someone he knew.

He had closed his eyes while thinking and let out a small laugh when he opened them again. As the Raijinshuu could take months for their exposé, they also needed to write fluff and filler stories under pseudonyms, hence why his computer was filled with images of a pug on a small trampoline because she had won a local competition. The contrast between his nights and his morning were so large that it could only be surmised by a laugh.

Mindlessly scrolling through the pictures he had taken the day before, in hopes of finding one that could be easily proportioned into the required size while not lacking quality, he heard the door to their office open. He looked over his shoulder to see it was Laxus.

"Good morning," He greeted, eyes scanning the other man slightly as he walked towards him.

"Morning," Laxus mumbled, running a hand over his face and collapsing into the chair seated opposite Freed.

He seemed better rested than Freed was, even if he was being more dramatic about it that Freed. He did have slight bags under his eyes and what seemed to be a nasty bruise forming under his right eye. Although it looked painful, it would at least be useful to Freed as it could give him a way into bringing up the subject of what happened last night, as well as chastising him for his stupidity with both of his personas. He wondered if Laxus was more likely to listen to him than the vigilante version of himself.

But he could broach that topic later, it was early in the morning and both men clearly hadn't yet awoken fully. So Freed simply frowned at the bruise as if confused as to why he had acquired it, before going back to browsing pictures and drinking his coffee.

Every few moments, he would glance up at Laxus. Unless Racer and his little gang had done anything to the blonde's torso, the only injury that Laxus had received was the bruise. He hadn't limped either last night or this morning, and although Laxus was the type to put himself in danger for his work, he also wasn't stubborn enough to deny the need for a doctor whenever it arose. So the fact he was here, and the only mark of an injury was a superficial bruise, meant that Freed had managed to keep his friend relatively safe the night before.

His being in the same area as Laxus wasn't entirely coincidental. Laxus had mentioned wanting to get the confession from Racer that night, so Freed had made sure to stay relatively near the bar Racer could often be found at.

He hadn't planned on prioritising Laxus throughout the night. Since he had begun his vigilante work, he had manged to work out a pretty effective system in finding crimes in action; a mixture of local news alerts as well as having hacked into a police radio system that played into an earpiece in his right ear; by the end of the first week he managed to drown out all unneeded words as well as understand many of the police terminology. If something had happened in the city unrelated to Laxus, he would have dealt with that rather than staying near Laxus. But, as the main issue of the night was the gunshot of Racer and Laxus' fight, he hadn't needed to worry.

Another yawn split apart Freed's lips as he placed the now empty thermos of coffee onto the desk, and Laxus chuckled slightly at it.

"Late night?" The blonde asked, cracking his back slightly as he adjusted his chair, so it was leaning back slightly. Freed know from experience that this meant he was working on a filler story, as when he worked on something, he was passionate about his posture would be better.

"Not intentionally," Freed lied, finally deciding on a picture and opening it in Photoshop. "Apparently I'm unable to see the difference between caffeinated and decaffeinated coffee."

"Maybe that'll be our next story once we finish with these bastards," Laxus joked, spinning in his chair as he procrastinated writing the award-winning dog story. "Famous journalist credited with taking down notorious crime family faces shame and public scrutiny as it's revealed, he can't fucking read a coffee can."

"And that, Laxus," Freed chuckled slightly. "Is why I don't let you write the headlines."

"What was wrong with it?" Laxus laughed, still not yet writing.

"Three things," Freed leant forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "One, it's so long that you'd have to write it in a small font for it to fit onto a page. Two, you should never give away the entire headline in the story, that's just standard. Three, do you really think your grandfather would allow the word 'fucking' on the front page of his newspaper?"

"Good points. You sure it's not just because you get paid for writing the headlines?" Laxus taunted slightly. Freed simply chuckled in response. "You think you're front page news, huh?"

"As if I'd accept anything less."

Laxus chuckled and, finally, started to type on his keyboard. Freed decided to leave him to it; even when doing something he wasn't passionate about, Laxus could get into a rhythm of writing and do a full draft within an hour if he wasn't interrupted. But if he was interrupted while writing a story he wasn't interested in; it was a battle to get him to start again. He could be something of a child at times.

Freed did everything needed on the picture to make it presentable, before opening one of the drafts that Evergreen had sent him. He had chosen her work to start on as she was more likely to self-edit as she went, rather than Laxus and Bickslow who could get caught in the moment of writing and make mistakes without realising it. They all had instances of being guilty of this, but Ever did it the least, meaning editing her work was the easiest thing for his half awake morning brain.

"So," Freed spoke as he formatted Ever's work, finding himself unable to stop himself. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"What happened when?" Laxus asked over the sound of his quick typing.

"Whenever you got the bruise," Freed glanced over the top of his monitor to see Laxus pull out his phone and assess his reflection; he must have not noticed it before. "And if you try to tell me that you fell on something, or walked into an open door, I will take it as a personal insult against my intelligence and I won't be happy."

Laxus stopped for a moment, obviously thinking. Freed had to wonder if Laxus was considering lying about what he was doing, or considering lying about meeting the vigilante that he had previously denied existing.

"Went to a bar," Laxus spoke eventually. "Got a little drunk, some bastard was making too much noise. Went into an alley and, well, you can guess."

Ah. So he wasn't actually going to lie, but he would conveniently leave out all the aspects of his night that would tell Freed he did something stupid and put himself in danger. Freed had heard stories of how Laxus had acted as a child, none all that complimentary. If he could lie as smoothly as he just had, he could imagine the trouble he could have given his grandfather while going through his rebellious phase. Freed might be able to laugh, if Laxus wasn't hiding the fact that he nearly got both stabbed and shot the night before.

"Well obviously you're lying or not telling me everything," Freed muttered, and saw Laxus frown at him in a silent question as to how he knew this. "If that's what happened, you wouldn't be proud of it and would lie. The fact that you're telling me that, it means that something worse happened. So, again, what happened?"

"I trailed Racer," Laxus sighed. "Went to a bar, wanted him to confess. He left for an alley, I followed him, things went bad for a while but I'm fine."

"Bad how?" Freed sighed.

"There was a gun. And a knife."

"For god's sake Laxus," Freed groaned, reigniting the frustrations he felt when he first saw what had happened to Laxus the night before. "I told you multiple times that, before we try and get them to confess face to face, we should explore all other options. And if we do need to act like that, at the very least make your intentions clear."

Freed knew that he was perhaps being more cautious that he would have been before he began his vigilante work. Perhaps it was because he was becoming more aware of how bad the people they were investigating truly could be, and perhaps it was a slight amount of arrogance because he knew that he could handle himself in these situations but, as nobody else had the abilities that he had, other people could not. Either way, what happened the night before gave clear evidence as to why caution was sometimes good.

He wouldn't continue complaining about it. Although it could have ended up incredibly badly, he only ended the night with a bruise and it might have shaken him up enough so that he might show more caution than he had before.

Laxus also seemed to be happy with the conversation ending, so they both went back to their respective work. Freed started to make the small adjustments on the story Ever had sent him, while Laxus continued writing the story again. Admittedly, it was slightly funny to see the large man pouting slightly at his desk, made even more funny when he realised that he was a well-respected journalist writing a story about a dog bouncing on a trampoline.

"I need a walk," Laxus suddenly proclaimed after his stream of typing died down. "You wanna blow off for half an hour? Say we don't have any good pics of the dog and we need some more?"

"Sure," Freed smiled a little. "Though, again, I must say I'm offended that you think anyone would believe I can take a picture that isn't perfect."

Laxus chuckled, standing up and slinging his coat over his shoulders. He picked up his bottle of water as Freed placed the camera back into its bag, which was then slung over his shoulder as to make the lie more believable. They walked to the elevator side by side, again Freed greeted his previous desk mates as he passed them; though he did resist the urge to kick Mirajane's chair as her eyes flickered between the two men suggestively. She had some form of invested interest between whatever relationship the two men had together.

"So," Laxus said as he pushed the button to call the elevator. "Since I can't do any work tonight, you mind if I come over for some company? I'll bring pizza though, ain't a freeloader. I'd invite you to mine but you've seen my place."

Freed chuckled, a little weakly, at the expense of Laxus' crappy studio apartment that he could defiantly improve on and not become financially unstable. It was a running joke between the Raijinshuu that Laxus' apartment wasn't anywhere near as good as it should be, given the money he earns and the position he had at the company, meaning he would have to laugh at the self-deprecating joke to not seem odd.

But in truth, the innocent question was concerning to Freed. Since he had begun his vigilante work, he hadn't really had to balance his social and alter-ego life much. Even on the nights he had decided not to take to the streets, he had the ability to change his mind if something had happened.

Hypothetically, if Laxus were to come to Freed's apartment and something were to happen in the city, he would either have to sit through it and do nothing, or he would have to reveal that he had been the one to save Laxus the night before as well as being the costumed hero that had been protecting Magnolia as of late. And although Freed had realised that being a hero wasn't exactly as presented in comic books, and Laxus wasn't suddenly going to be suspended above boiling oil as leverage against him, Laxus knowing about his alter-ego would defiantly open a can of worms that Freed wasn't yet ready for.

Though, Freed had figured out a way to put people to sleep. It might not be the most ethical thing to do, but he could use that spell on Laxus if the situation required. He could be subtle with his casting, and he would enjoy spending time with Laxus out of work.

"Sounds good," He finally spoke as the elevator doors opened. "Make sure the pizza's got chorizo on it."

"As if I could forget," Laxus grinned as they entered the elevator. "The high standards of Freed Justine are imprinted on my mind. Wouldn't want to wake up the spoiled rich kid inside, you've been keeping him contained for so long there must be one hell of a tantrum building up."

"And smart-ass comments like that are what might finally bring it to the surface."

Hearing Laxus chuckle, Freed decided that he had made the right decision. Sure, if the worse were to happen then it might be a little difficult to pull of perfectly, but having a lazy night with the other man in his company was worth the risk. He could do this.

* * *

**_Saturday July 20th, 2019, Late Night._ **

Laxus slowly rolled his neck back as he pushed further into Freed's sofa. The thing was more comfortable than his bed, and the blonde found it hard to resist the screaming urge that told him he should sleep; he had been more shaken from the previous night's activities, so sleep had been spotty and uneven at best. He was more than willing to make up for that, but he had invited himself into Freed's apartment, falling asleep after doing that would just be rude.

And, of course, he wanted to keep an eye on Freed.

He liked to think he knew his photographer well, and he could notice when things weren't right with him. So to see Freed acting tired at his desk over the last month or so, along with a whole assortment of other small shifts in how he acted, it made Laxus worry. Perhaps unnecessarily but being aware of that didn't make him worry any less.

This was why Laxus had invited himself into Freed's apartment for the night; so he could either put his worries to rests and confirm that nothing was wrong with Freed, or at least have full confirmation that he wasn't over thinking so he could try and help his friend. Spending time at work had allowed Freed to keep Laxus pretty much at arms length, but spending time with him in his apartment would allow the man to let his guard down. Also, Laxus enjoyed the company of his friend, and spending a night with him was considerably nicer than what he had done the night before.

Having been at Freed's apartment for over an hour, nothing was overly concerning. Freed still cleaned the place to a near obsessive degree, he hasn't been overworking himself at home in any obvious way, and he hadn't seemed overly stressed or antsy as they had eaten. All in all, Freed seemed pretty much the same as usual.

'Thank god.'

He knew that he had probably been overthinking. It was something he was prone to doing, more so with Freed. He didn't feel protective over the other man – not really – but he did pay more attention to his friend than he did with anyone else in his team. The reason for this was also obvious to him.

Although he couldn't accurately define it, he knew he had some kind of feelings for the man. It had happened almost instantaneously; he was working on his first expose and needed a photographer to help get some incriminating pictures of a celebrity. Most people working for the newspaper had denied his request, being involved in a case against someone with such a large social influence could be career suicide, but Freed hadn't batted an eyelid. In fact, he had shown so much confidence in his work that his actual reply was 'as long as you don't get in my way, of course.' That cocky, fearless attitude combined with the good looks of the man, it was natural for Laxus to feel that way.

As time went by, Laxus started to call on Freed as his photographer before anyone else. They soon became partners, and got to know each other better. Freed was actually pretty funny, with a sharp wit and almost nihilistic sense of humour. The closer he got to Freed, the more parts of the man he found he liked. So of course he found himself feeling some kind of romantic feelings to the man.

He'd say he had a crush, but he was a twenty-three-year-old man. Not a six-year-old.

The issue with feeling like that was his lack of ability to talk about it. He wasn't a romantic person, and talking about his emotions had never been something he was confident in doing. So even if he could gather the courage to perhaps bring it up, he would stumble over his words and make an ass out of himself. Not to mention risking his friendship with the man. God; he really did sound like an angsty teenager when he started to think about it.

"You seem very lost in thought," Freed said as he returned from his kitchen, holding out two opened beers and handing one to Laxus. "Anything on your mind."

Damn, he really needed to stop his mind from wondering to such a degree. For someone who's career it was to look into the small things that people tried to hide and come to conclusions based off it, he wasn't great at keeping his emotions hidden behind a mask.

"Just thinking about what happened last night," He lied, although that had been something that had been toying on his thoughts for a multitude of reasons.

He hadn't realised it at the time, perhaps too high on adrenaline, but the previous night was insane. He had been held at gunpoint by an apparently murderous member of a soon-to-be notorious crime family, who he then beat up until he required his cronies to restrain him. He then was going to be stabbed by the damn guy, only for him to be saved by someone who's exitance he had doubted. A man who could apparently perform spells, transform his hand into some kind of monstrous claw, as well as teleport. And the guy apparently knew his work?

Everything was fucking insane! Laxus had woken up thinking he had experienced some kind of fever dream.

"I know it isn't something you want to re-live, but I'm happy to listen if you do want to get it off your chest," Freed offered.

"You wouldn't believe me," Laxus chuckled, bringing the beer to his lips and taking a sip.

"Try me."

Laxus thought for a moment. He supposed that Freed, being a reported, had to have at least a partially open mind. And the stories of the vigilante were getting more popular, so it would seem as though Laxus was just making up bullshit.

"Fine," He eventually said, an almost challenging smirk on his face. If Freed was willing to believe anything, Laxus certainly had a story to test that claim. "Last night, I was saved by the superhero guy."

Although he didn't look at Freed, Laxus could imagine his expression. Restrained shock that would probably turn into amusement at the fact Laxus was backtracking on something that he had been steadfast against existing. The moment he heard a soft chuckle, he knew that his assessment of Freed's reaction was right; of course the guy would enjoy Laxus changing his mind on something that he had previously would have argued passionate against.

"Okay," Freed said after a few moments. "Explain, so I can pinpoint the moment you hit your head and started becoming delusional."

"You know it's that kinda attitude that gets a guy kicked out of another guys apartment." Laxus chuckled, not actually offended.

"You going to kick me out of my own apartment?" Freed raised an eyebrow.

"Guess not. But I can storm out and slam the door pretty fucking hard," Laxus grinned, sipping at the drink he nursed in his hands. "Piss off all your neighbours, get you kicked out. And when you come to my place 'cause you're homeless, then I'll kick your ass to the kerb."

Freed laughed at the comment, also drinking his beer as he mindlessly scrolled through his Netflix to put on something that would entertain them both. Having this slightly flirtatious conversation with Freed, it left all his doubts about his friend in the back of his mind. He was just thankful that he could accredit the slight redness of his cheeks onto the beer he was drinking, because the gentle brushing of their shoulders along with the pleasant, easy conversation between them was something that was defiantly causing a blush to form.

"So," Freed spoke again. "What happened."

"Pretty much what I said before," Laxus shifted so that he was looking at Freed, also so that their knees didn't touch as that was just too much for a slightly drunk man to handle. "Was gonna try and get Racer to make some kind of confession when he was drunk. He left the bar earlier than I thought he would, so I followed him into an alley."

"Always a wise choice with a weapons dealer."

"Fuck off," Laxus laughed, smile remaining on his face. "So yeah, followed him. Fucked up a little and he found me recording him, so he pulled a gun on me, made me crush the recorder – I need a new one, by the way – and started to threaten me."

The fact he was recounting this story in such a comical way seemed odd even to Laxus, but he couldn't feel any different. He expected that, if his life had ever been in danger like it had been, it would affect him more. And yes, sleep had been difficult and many of his dreams had been filled with gunshots and sharp knives, but it wasn't as if he couldn't close his eyes without having flashbacks. Either he was unusual, or fiction liked to glamorise the effects of a traumatic to a pretty dramatic degree.

"Managed to knock the gun out," The blonde continued. "Got in a few punches; damn satisfying. Then his bastard minions got involved and held me down. Racer pulled out a knife, was gonna stab me, then the guy drops from the sky, kicks the fucker and beats the hell out of him and two of his bastards."

"He just happened to be there?" Freed asked.

"Gun went off when I was getting it off Racer, guess he must have heard it," Laxus shrugged, brining the beer to his lips. "He didn't just fight them, though. He had all these spells and crap. Like, he made walls and he got a claw and… yeah, I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

"Not at all," Freed said, his voice sounding amused. "Your stories pretty consistent with everyone else Bickslow talked to. Maybe he can interview you next."

Laxus groaned in slight embarrassment. He had first found out about the vigilante from Bickslow, who pitched the story to Laxus. After hearing this, Laxus had made a pretty big show about how they shouldn't waste time following some non-existent superhero while they had a case as serious as the Oración Seis to deal with. He still maintained that was a logical stance to take, but he also knew Bickslow would rip the hell out of him when Freed inevitably told him.

"So, you've got a first person recount of him," Freed continued. "What was he like?"

"Honestly, pretty hot," Laxus laughed, the alcohol in his system loosening his barriers. "Good body, handsome, cocky. Probably good in bed."

He let out a laugh at his own words. The laugh was partially because the vigilante was the closest thing to a superhero that reality had to offer and, after being saved by him, Laxus had admitted to finding him hot like he was a damsel in distress in a comic book. He also laughed because everything he had admitted to liking about the vigilante, he could also say about Freed. Other than the good in bed thing, because he had to remain somewhat professional with the guy and thinking about how he would be between the sheets was a dangerous thing to do.

Thankfully, the awkward confession of attraction towards the vigilante isn't lingered on. Freed lets out a small laugh, though it had a slightly different lilt than his normal laugh. Either he was overthinking things again, or his drunken mind way playing tricks on him.

"So that solidifies your type then, doesn't it Laxus," Freed grinned. "Almost entirely unattainable, and possibly fictional. You don't make life easy for yourself, do you?"

The irony of Freed's words were not lost on Laxus; the object of any real desires was truly unattainable, but certainly not fictional. The blonde slowly turned his head away from the TV and towards Freed. The light from the TV shone onto his face, highlighting his near impossible mixture of fragility and ruggedness that made up his features. That, combined with the sharp, annoyingly beckoning lips, made Laxus realise just how uneasy he had made his life for himself. There Freed was, always both so close and so out of reach.

The silence seemed them turned suddenly deafening as Freed looked away from the TV also, and directly into Laxus' eyes. The closeness of the two men became clear, and Laxus was now incredibly aware of their shoulders resting against each other, and how his knee knocked against Freed's.

Shit.

He sat still for a moment, almost as if he didn't want to spook the man. Freed's eyes scanned Laxus' face, analysing him with a slightly soft expression. Laxus made sure that, when his eyes eventually rested again, he was ready to greet them. They both leant forward slightly, Laxus leaning down while Freed jutted his chin upwards slightly. Laxus felt his breath hitch as a hand softly landed on his lower thigh; Freed's hand.

Perhaps not so out of reach.

They both slowly leant forward further. Their foreheads gently connected as they moved their lips closer. Laxus felt the soft exhales of Freed's breaths tickle his lips in an almost cruel taunt as he made the final move to bring him into a kiss.

And, in a cruel act of fate, Freed's phone lit up and blurted loudly from the coffee table.

They pulled apart suddenly, the slightly drunken spell cast on each other breaking as they pulled away. Laxus recognised the blaring alarm coming from Freed's phone to be that of the Fairy Tail app's news alert; though why he had to have it that loud was unknown to Laxus. Or why he had to have the damn thing at all, for that matter, as they both worked for the damn newspaper and would figure out what had happened pretty soon without an obnoxious push notification. More so when they were just about to fucking kiss!

"You really need it that fucking loud?" He demanded, a scowl on his face that he couldn't bother to hide.

"Sorry, my phone needs to be updated. Volume keeps changing without me wanting it to," Freed explained, and Laxus hoped the hint of annoyance in the other man's voice wasn't just wishful thinking. The other man picked his phone from the table and read the notification. "Damn."

"What's up?" Laxus asked, mainly out of obligation. What he really wanted to do was smash the offending phone and demand they continue their previous actions.

"A fire," Freed explained, standing up and walking to his window. Even from where Laxus was sitting, he could see smoke rising across the sky. "Kitchen fire, at the Blue Pegasus Hotel, apparently."

Despite his annoyance at the situation, he knew it was superficial in comparison to what had caused it. Having a fire at an office would be bad, but a hotel was awful. It would be heavily populated in the night and, given the extent of the smoke covering the city, a hell of a lot of people might be hurt. He immediately thought about how his work would be tomorrow; being a journalist the day after a cataclysm was the most sobering thing Laxus had been through. He could only hope that the people inside could be helped before the fire could get too bad.

A small part of his mind wondered if the vigilante from the night before would be helping.

"Jesus, most people would be asleep by now," Freed commented, looking towards his clock. It was one in the morning.

"Yeah," Laxus agreed soberly. "Still, as shit as it is, all we can do it let the professionals do what they can and help as many people as possible."

"I suppose," Freed sighed, walking back to the coffee table. He picked up the two bottles of beer and walked towards the kitchen, though lingered directly behind the sofa as he passed it. "Do you want to stay here tonight? No point in walking home this late."

"You don't mind?" Laxus looked over his shoulder towards Freed.

"Not at all."

Laxus was about to thank his host, when the other man placed both hands on his shoulders. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening – as well as ignoring the hopeful thought that Freed would lean down and finish what they had started before – but he felt a sudden wave of tiredness overthrow him. His muscles relaxed within an instant, his mind quickly calming to a point of near unconsciousness. It was unnatural, but he felt the tiredness too overwhelming to care.

Lacking the willpower to question what was happening, Laxus allowed his eyes to close. His head fell against the back of Freed's sofa, resting his blurring gaze on Freed's bedroom door.

And although his sight was hazy and oppressed, a moment before the sleep could take him completely, he could almost be sure he saw Freed pick up a coat from the back of his door and adorn it.

A coat exactly the same shade as the one the vigilante had worn the night before.

Huh.

* * *

**_Monday August 5th, 2019, Late Evening._ **

There was something about doing this that made Freed feel alive.

An adrenaline rush would course itself through his veins every time he placed the mask against his face. He would teleport himself onto a random rooftop, loving over the well illuminated city of Magnolia, and something would just ignite inside of him. A passion, a sense of duty, a roaring voice that said that this town was his domain and it was his privilege to protect its residents as best he possibly could.

He would jump from rooftop to rooftop, his wings making previously unthinkable distances to cross seem like a simple step. He would check the most popular spots for mugging and criminal dealings, stop them if he saw them, and return back to patrolling the next part of the city.

If he were to say he didn't enjoy his vigilante work, he would be lying.

Perhaps he was just imagining it, but he felt his presence in the city had some kind of effect on the amount of crime in the city. There was no great supervillain, nobody with a vendetta against him as far as he knew, so he had the ability to tackle the smaller crimes that, at least in fiction, were hardly mentioned. So, after being beaten up by someone with abilities that can only be described as magical, Freed liked to think that the backstreet muggers and drug dealers would think that the risk wasn't worth it. Or maybe it was arrogance mixed with the thrill of what he was doing becoming more regular; but Freed liked to think he had an impact.

With every day that went by, he felt himself getting better at vigilante work. His sleep schedule was finally starting to adjust to his new hours, so he wasn't all but dead to the world when he came into work. The sense of obligation was also lessening; he could only help the people he could find, and if a crime happened without him knowing, he shouldn't feel guilty.

He had also started to map out how the city's criminals worked. There were certain days in which the standard crimes of mugging, drug dealings and vandalism were less consistent, mainly mid-week when there were less people on the streets to be the victims. On these days, Freed often shortened his patrol time so that he could catch up on the sleep that his body still demanded. He also knew some of the worst spots for crimes that occurred often, such as the central square being a hellscape of pick-pockets picking on drunk people. All in all, he was starting to get a streamlined routine going and a sense of regularity back into his life.

But over the last week or two, he had found himself on the streets at the night more than needed.

It was a distraction, stopping him from confronting the reality that he and Laxus had almost kissed; that they would have kissed if it weren't for his news alerts. Laxus was one of the few men that Freed had actually considered a relationship with, and there was a very good chance that their almost kiss would have stopped that from actually happening.

When it was happening, Freed's mind had been in a rush. A fire was happening, and people likely would be trapped in a place where only Freed could save them. He needed to prioritise them, so he put Laxus into a sleep spell as soon as possible and teleported away within the minute.

After saving everyone he could, Freed was given time to think.

He had walked home rather than teleporting, his mind fully engrossed in the memories of the near-kiss he shared with Laxus. They had both been drinking, so Freed couldn't be sure if Laxus' leaning in was fuelled by the beer running through his veins, or if there had been some genuine form of attraction to him.

At least he could be sure that Laxus was attracted to his vigilante self. That was something Freed had found himself chuckling at.

When he had returned to his apartment, his mind was still plagued by the nights events were going to affect his relationship with Laxus; something made harder when he remembered that the very same blonde was sleeping on his sofa. He had placed his friend on his bed, made the sofa up for himself and forced himself not to think about it for the night.

It was something he had been doing for nearly two weeks now. Hence, why he was on patrol on a lazy Wednesday night. A distraction.

He felt he had justification for needing a distraction, though. Because, it was clear to Freed that Laxus remembered at least the kiss they almost shared, as there had been a slightly shift in how they acted around each other. He wasn't shunned exactly, and it wasn't as if there was a lingering secret that needed to be revealed, but it just felt different. Like they were both keeping each other at arm's length so that they don't need to discuss what had happened. A task made difficult when they work directly opposite one another and are practically partners in what they do.

Freed can't blame Laxus for this, as he knew he was doing the same. It was more convenient to pretend nothing had happened, so that's what he was doing.

Which was fine. It was working fine.

With a burst of enthusiasm, Freed ran towards the edge of the building he stood on. He pushed off from the edge of the structure and propelled himself into the dark sky, purple translucent wings forming behind his and allowing him to fly throughout the city.

Soaring through the brisk summer air, he made sure not to disrupt the people below as made his way to the western end of the city. Although it was the more affluent part of the town, it also had considerably more crime. Freed suspected that, as the people who were targeted had more money, the criminals would think they would be more willing to give it up. Sound logic, and at least with the criminals focusing on this part of the city it meant less muggings would happen without Freed knowing about it.

However, there was of course another reason for his focus in this area. Laxus had found out earlier in the day that Angel, a member of the Oración Seis family, had just started to become involved with the family's dealings. Laxus had been excited, knowing that out of all the family members, she was least likely to know his face. Meaning he could still get his confession from a member of the family.

And of course, as Laxus always seemed to act on instinct, it would only be so long before he put his plan into action.

It wasn't hard to find that Angel was staying in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel in this area of the city, and it was even easier to find out she was in the hotel's bar every night drinking. Knowing Laxus as well as he did, Freed realised that he would try to flirt his way into her apartment, overwhelm her with compliments after she had gotten drunk enough to make her more likely to reveal some secrets, and probe her as subtly as he could until he got what he wanted. It was a plan that had worked before, but Freed doubted Laxus would just get slung onto the streets in a state of undress if it went wrong. Angel was someone to be feared, and Laxus' excitement might have clouded that from him.

He was keeping Laxus at arm's length, but still cared for him a great deal. And if Laxus couldn't execute his plan perfectly, he might need the vigilante to save him.

Instead of landing on the luxury building itself, he settled for perching on the fire escape of the building that sat opposite. He could clearly see the penthouse suite, the only place violence could occur without being caught by the copious amounts of security cameras that covered both in and around the hotel.

Time passed slowly as he waited to see if something had happened. The vigilante wasn't proud of it, but he had checked in on Laxus' apartment before he left and found out that the blonde wasn't there. He knew the other man well enough to know he wasn't going to be social when he was so close to finalising a story that had been plaguing his mind for such a long time, so he would defiantly be there. Freed just needed to wait and see if something was going to happen.

"Perhaps I should get an eyepiece," He spoke to himself, something he found himself doing more often now. "Shouldn't be hard to hack into hotel security."

After ten or so minutes of leaning against the uncomfortable metal railings of the fire escape, Freed found himself bored out of his mind. He sprouted his wings again and started to fly around the area, looking out for any crimes in progress that he could stop, or any recognisable faces that he could pay a visit to before they could hold someone at gunpoint and scare them half to death. He found none, which was perhaps for the best as his eyes continuously strayed towards the window of the penthouse suite. So far, the lights in the room hadn't been turned on.

He waited around for nearly an hour before something had happened – waiting was also a larger part of doing vigilante work that fiction failed to tell you about – and the lights to the hotel suite turned on. He landed on a nearby building and looked through the window, eyes narrowing slightly to get a better view.

There was Laxus. With a gun pressed into his back. Of course.

Jumping into action, Freed knew that if Angel was willing to shoot Laxus even his teleportation wouldn't be fast enough to stop her. He flew forward as fast as he could towards the window, eyes trained on the gun. It was the same type the family sold; meaning he knew the metal the casing was made out of. Within in instant, runes plastered themselves across the walls of the suite she was in, heating up that exact metal to a boiling point. He smirked when he saw Angel suddenly throw the gun to the side.

Knowing that he couldn't teleport while using his wings – it was too draining on him – he decided to hold back on entering the room. Instead, he waited and hoped that Laxus would take the chance given to him to get the hell out of there.

Mercifully, the moment the gun was thrown to the side Laxus barged Angel out of the way and ran for the door. Freed let out a breath that he was holding, only to hold it again when Angel ran towards a wall mounted tablet. She pushed a button just before Laxus could reach the door, and when the blonde pulled on it for it to be opened, Freed could only watch as he struggled it. He assumed that this was some kind of security system, disallowing Laxus his exit.

Freed took in a short breath, wondering what his options were. The gun was still untouchable, unless Angel wanted a pretty bad burn, so that was one positive. The new issue was, the woman now had a knife; apparently Laxus was making a habit of nearly getting shot and then nearly getting stabbed.

He needed to act fast.

The windows were going to be unbreakable if the hotel's security was this good, and even if Freed cancelled his flight and teleported before he hit the ground, momentum was carried, and he would be at the very least winded beyond use. For now, all Freed could do was watch and help in any way he could from outside using his runes.

Although he couldn't make out their words, Freed could guess that she was threatening him. He slowly put his hands up and walked towards her, his face somehow restraining what was obviously fear. The vigilante kept in line with the two, watching as she rested the knife against Laxus' chest.

They walked slowly to the large balcony of the suite, which allowed Freed the ability to get closer and intervene if needed. But he needed to be careful, if he flew in now there was a chance that Angel would force the knife into Laxus' chest, either out of panic or out of spite. He flew a little closer, keeping himself low enough so that neither would be able to see. Although his own sight was hindered, he could at least hear what they were saying now.

"So," Angel spoke with a sickly-sweet tone. "Now I don't want to explain why there's blood all over my apartment, dear stud of a reporter. It would be much easier if you just, well… suicide is so common now, maybe we can pretend you're another statistic."

"You think I'm gonna make this easier for you, bitch?" Laxus spat, and Freed felt his jaw clench. Why did he have to make things hard for himself?

"Now Mr Dreyar, I wouldn't annoy me if I were you. You've such a handsome face, I wouldn't want to mess it up myself," Angels threat was obvious, and Freed could just about see her dragging the knife across his cheek. "And, look at it this way. You might land on a balcony and just get mangled and live. If I use my toy, that won't happen."

'Okay.' Freed thought to himself. 'This could be worse.'

"I hope you don't mind, I'll be telling the reporter you broke down crying and confessed to being washed up and an alcoholic," Angel continued. "Up on the edge. Now."

Although Freed couldn't be sure of what was going through Laxus' mind, he knew the man would be scared. He calmed his own breathing and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of Laxus climbing onto the edge of the building. He was about two feet to the left of Freed, which was good. Slowly, trying not to scare the man, he flew directly to where Laxus was standing, still keeping out of sight of Angel as he hovered in place.

Laxus was looking down, slightly unsteady because of the wind. The moment he saw Freed, it was obvious a look of relief filled him entirely. Freed offered him a small smile that he hoped would comfort the man, before forcing eye contact between them both.

"I will save you," He mouthed clearly, words sincere. "I promise."

Laxus managed a small, weary nod. At the same moment, Angel seemed to be getting impatient and slammed her hands into the small of his back in a vicious push. Laxus lost his footing and stumbled forward, over the edge of the building and towards the ground below. The speed of the action shocked Freed, and he quickly watched as the man flew past him.

Freed dove down, managing to move faster than the falling figure of his friend. He managed to wrap his arms around the blonde's. He had to fall alongside him for a short while before he could start to carry him back and start flying how he normally would.

The blonde was shaking, Freed had never seen him so vulnerable.

He placed him on one of the vacant hotel balconies, making sure he was safely sitting. It took a few moments before Laxus could open his eyes and when he was sure that he wasn't falling, he offered Freed a weak smile. The vigilante returned it, placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulder and casting a calming spell on him.

"I'll be back in a moment," He said, using the same runes to change his voice that he had used before, only speaking softer. "I'll help you down, I just need to deal with her, first."

After Laxus gave him a small nod, Freed flew up from the balcony and back up towards the penthouse. Angel had looked over the edge of the balcony, assuredly because she hadn't heard a crashing sound, and Freed got great amounts of satisfaction at seeing her eyes widen as he slowly, threateningly raised himself so that he was eye level with the witch of a woman. His wings were spread wide, his hair rising as power coursed through it, and for the first time he felt himself fighting off his demonic form rather him calling it fourth.

This was the most angry he had been as a vigilante.

"Agony," He casted, the words forming on her stomach in the runic language he had grown to control. She doubled over, clutching at the words causing her pain. "Look at me," He demanded, Angel ignoring her. "Look at me!" He roared.

The woman slowly looked towards Freed, the pain evident in her eyes. He had no sympathy for her; not only had she tried to kill the man Freed care for more than most, her enthusiasm to become part of her families business told her she had no morals. If she wasn't willing to show mercy to others, she shouldn't expect it given to her.

"Tell your stupid little family, and whatever little minions you manage to brainwash, that man is protected," He demanded. "And his protection has more power than your darkest thoughts could imagine."

He turned his back on the woman and flew back down towards Laxus, knowing that the spell would wear off eventually. If his treatment of Racer and his men hadn't been enough to ward them off hurting Laxus, leaving her in pain for around an hour or so would make it clear that he was one of few people that were off limits.

Landing on the balcony, he felt his anger dissipating. He cancelled the spell that he had placed on Laxus, knowing that he had already calmed down to a degree where he wouldn't be hysterical. He wasn't shaking any more, and just seemed to be looking at his hands.

"Sorry for leaving you here," He apologised, his warped voice sounding odd when speaking so calmly. "So, Mr Dreyar, are you going to become my first regular customer."

"You got a problem with that," Laxus grinned a little. Freed assumed he was performing. "Thought I was a pretty good victim."

"I never said anything on the contrary. You make a very good damsel in distress," He made sure to put emphasis on the damsel part, knowing it would annoy his colleague. "Although I would rather you just be a damsel, as I'd rather you not keep having to remove you from the distress."

"Ain't a damsel," Laxus protested, pouting slightly. Freed laughed at this, and Laxus joined in. "Sorry for putting you out of the way."

"It was no bother," Freed sighed, sitting on the chair opposite Laxus. "You know that family is dangerous. Why keep putting yourself in situations like this?"

"No fucker else will. If we go to the police, they'll say I'm talking out of my ass. If I can get a confession, all the shit they're doing might stop," Laxus sighed slightly, leaning back in his chair. "Or at least it'll make them pay attention."

Freed thought for a moment. Both his vigilante persona and his actual self could see the logic in this, and knowing Laxus as well as he did, he knew that Laxus would cling to that logic until he either got a confession that couldn't be denied, or he died trying. Something that was becoming more and more likely the more he dealt with the Oración Seis. And, given the distance that was forming between Freed and Laxus, it was possible that Freed might not know the next time Laxus would get himself held at gunpoint.

"What exactly do you need from them?" He asked, though knew the answer.

"Footage of them confessing to doing all the illegal shit. Weapons trading, drug trafficking and pretty much everything you can think of. Need to make sure people know it's them without a doubt, and then I'll leave 'em alone."

"I'll get it for you," Freed said, voice stern. Laxus looked up, face shocked and confused. "Give me two weeks, I'll get an irrefutable confession, I'll get it to you. My condition, don't put yourself in danger until at least the two weeks are over."

"Seriously?" Laxus asked, voice shocked. Freed nodded. "Yeah, sure. You think you can do that?"

"What good am I if I can't stop the villains of this city?"

They both laughed with each other, and Freed couldn't help but be reminded how this easy conversation was lacking normally. He could no longer talk to Laxus in this way when he wasn't adorning his costume, and that left a small amount of dull hollowness. He half hoped that a reminder of what he was missing would give him the kick to bring their friendship back to what it had once been. But he knew it wouldn't happen.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a light turned on. The light of the room that was connected to the balcony they were sitting on. He had forgotten that someone would actually be sleeping in that room and, by the look of Laxus' face, he had forgotten also.

"We should probably leave," Laxus chuckled, eyeing the curtained doors. "You can take me down, right."

"Of course," Freed said with a small smirk, before lifting Laxus up bridal style. Laxus gave him a half glare as the wings spouted from his back. "What, how else do you expect a hero to lift his damsel in distress to safety."

"Bastard."

Freed watched as Laxus laughed in his arms, and he slowly started to move his wings to bring them into the air. Bringing him down was a pretty smooth process, he had gotten a lot of practice doing the same thing while attending to the victims of the fire at Blue Pegasus hotel. It took less than a minute to bring Laxus back down to the ground, which was enough time to allow him to come to a conclusion that he was certain of.

He missed Laxus' company. A lot.

* * *

**_Thursday August 15th, 2019, Late Afternoon._ **

A loud groan left Laxus' lips as he leant back in his desk chair, running a hand over his face.

He was exhausted, brain hardly functioning as he looked at the monitor before him, which seemed to be more a blurry mass of black and white rather than a page of text that he had just written. He had been in work nearly an hour before his shift and started and should have left over two hours ago. But, despite the voice telling him to go home and relax for the night, he was still sat at his office as the sun started to fall.

It had nearly been two weeks since he had been saved by the Vigilante for the second time, and the man had promised to get evidence against the Oración Seis that would finish his story. When he had returned home that night, he found himself questioning why he had happily given such an important task to a stranger, but there was a level of trust he had for the man that he couldn't explain.

Maybe because he had saved Laxus' life twice.

But as the days had passed after the deal had been struck, Laxus had heard nothing. He felt useless, depending on someone he hardly knew to do something so important. He was going to keep to his side of the deal and leave the Oración Seis, and instead had put his focus onto finishing a pile of fluff stories that he had been putting off. That was why he had been doing so much overtime work, so if the Vigilante couldn't end up getting the evidence, Laxus would have enough stories to publish immediately so he could make up for lost time in his investigation.

Also, because, every time he was left to his thoughts, he found himself feeling nauseous at the idea he might have missed his chance entirely with Freed and ruined their friendship.

What the hell had he been thinking? It wasn't as if he had drunk to the point where he had lost all sense, so why had he thought trying to kiss Freed was a good idea. Their friendship had been solid, and one of the better things in Laxus' life, and although he had some kind of feelings for the other man, he wouldn't be heartbroken if they never started to date. But now, not only was that seemingly off the cards, but also their friendship had been damaged to the point where they couldn't act normal around each other.

It was bullshit. As was the fact he was acting like an angsty fucking teenager.

For god's sake, less than a month ago he had nearly fallen to his death and yet his mind was always occupied by Freed; was he so co-dependant? No, that wasn't it. But he and Freed had instantly clicked when they had met and, after their partnership had started, they had been there for each other indefinitely. And now, they felt just like colleagues. It was shit, but Laxus knew he couldn't complain unless he tried to fix the situations.

But what was he meant to do? Laxus couldn't talk to people, he's always been socially shit. And whenever a friendship had been damaged before, he hadn't cared enough to fix it. But he couldn't imagine living without Freed, so something needed to happen. Maybe he was hoping Freed would take the first step, but he was just as stubborn as Laxus.

So for now, he would just distract himself by diving into work.

He lifted his mug of coffee to his lips and drained it, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at the monitor, hoping that the blurriness of his eyes would lessen slightly. It half worked, at least he could half read what was written, which was all he needed to finish this story and end his work for the night.

Minimising the text document, he opened his email and started to scroll through his imbox. Freed had finished working on the image for his story, so Laxus thought that, if nothing else, he should format the file before leaving.

After he found the email containing the image needed, he leant against his hand and allowed a yawn to split apart his lips. This was probably the latest he had worked since becoming part of the Raijinshuu and sitting alone in the office for such a long time was starting to weigh on him. Still, if the Vigilante didn't manage to get a confession from the family, he needed all the time he could to work on them again. More so now, considering the family would definitely know him now, so regular confession baiting couldn't be done anymore.

That's what he kept telling himself as he sat back, pulled out his phone and opened his music app, fully intending to procrastinate.

This continued for a short while, as Laxus fell into the trap of mindlessly browsing through all his social media, until Laxus' computer monitor lit up alongside the sound of his email chime coming from the speaker. He leant forward, knowing that only his team and bosses would email his work address, and that never happened at such a late time. So, whoever was emailing him, probably had something urgent to say.

After scrolling to the top of his inbox, he sat up straight. The sender's address was simply 'UnregisteredA' and it was accompanied with the subject line: Needed Evidence.

It was pretty obvious that the email was from the Vigilante, but he still couldn't trust the stranger entirely. He opened it to see that it only contained a video file alongside the short message of 'I'm sure that this will be enough for your story. V." Assuming the V stood for vigilante, Laxus felt a small bubble of excitement from in his stomach as he brought his mouse to the video filed and started to play it.

The video was a little shaky and seemed to be from some kind of bodycam. In the middle of the image was Midnight, Cobra and Racer; three unmistakable members of the Oración Seis, the most recognisable members too. Holy shit, if there was anything close to a confession on this, they wouldn't be able to deny it at all.

Looking at the greater picture of the video, Laxus felt himself getting more excited. They were in a warehouse, surrounded by large crates and containers. The family members hadn't yet noticed the Vigilante yet, and they had just opened one of the many crates that surrounded them. When Cobra pulled out the contents of the crate, Laxus was gifted an unhindered view of a weapon. A gun that was no where near being legal, and now Laxus had footage of the most famous member of the family inspecting it like an expert.

"You sure we can't jack up the price?" Racer asks, and Laxus felt his grin getting wider. "Feel like we could get more."

"I agree," Midnight continued, also picking up a gun. "We have a good product; we deserve a good price."

"Neither of you know what the hell you're talking about," Cobra hissed slightly, placing the gun back into the crate. "Our clients are volatile, we discussed a price and we will stick to it. Besides, if we become civil then this can become a more regular deal. That's when we start getting the price we need."

Laxus leant back in his chair, laughing slightly at the footage before him. In the act. The vigilante had just given him a recording of them in the fucking act! There was no way in hell that they could deny their actions once this went public; discussing business deals, holding the weapons, talking about how this wasn't an individual event. All he needed to do was publish this and their crappy little business was going to fall and crumble.

The blonde continued watching the footage, and grinned as he saw all three criminals turn when the Vigilante made his presence knows. They all looked at the camera with wide eyes, and damn Laxus wanted to make it the background of his computer.

A moment later, all three men had picked up guns and were aiming at the Vigilante. From the odd camera angle, Laxus could make out the Vigilante raising his hand and forming a barrier made out of the same energy that had captured the men when they first met. He Vigilante stormed forward towards the three criminals, and Laxus saw that both of his hands had turned into the demonic form as he got closer. It was then that the camera cut off.

As much as Laxus would have wanted to see the vigilante beat the shit out of the bastards – because he really did – he was still elated with the results. This was perfect.

He leant forward and quickly opened the reply window to the email, unable to stop his face splitting gin. He knew that it wasn't likely that the Vigilante would reply to anything he sent, but the brilliance of the evidence he had gotten deserved at least a thank you.

**To: UnregisteredA**

_Holy shit man, this is brilliant. There's no way these assholes are gonna be able to get out of it once I publish it. Thank you so much._

He watched the footage a few more times, revelling in it. He and his team had spent months trying to get enough on these bastards to bring them down, and now he had it. Gift wrapped by the hero that had saved him, no less. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he had to fight the temptation to work on integrating the footage into the main story immediately. But he couldn't, as incriminating the evidence was, he still needed to get this right or his professionalism might be called into question.

The Raijinshuu would work in it tomorrow. Fuck, it had been so long since they had been in this position, taking down someone so large. The buzz that'd be in the office in the morning, the determination they would all share, the expression that would paint itself onto Freed's face when he found out. It was all making Laxus' stomach flip in anticipation.

Just as he felt his mood drop slightly at the last though, his email chime rang out again.

**From: UnregisteredA**

_It was my pleasure. I apologise for the footage cutting off so suddenly, I only just realised the extent of what they were doing and I let my anger get the better of me. The camera broke half way through the fight._

Laxus grinned, looking at the email with a slightly disbelieving expression. Not only had the guy given him the smoking gun to the story, but he had also replied to his email in a somewhat conversational way. The blonde knew that this was something that couldn't happen all the time; to have the email of a vigilante at all was unheard of, but to catch the most famous vigilante in recent history in a conversational mood was something he couldn't waste.

**To: UnregisteredA**

_Don't apologise, I got what I needed. You must have gotten pretty into it for the camera to break though._

The reply was almost instant.

**From: UnregisteredA**

_You must remember that I have the ability to transform parts of my body into a demonic form. For the first time, I fully transformed my entire body. The camera was thrown to the floor and smashed, though the footage obviously was intact._

**To: UnregisteredA**

_So you can go full demon? That's pretty badass. Wish I could have seen you beat the hell out of them. Thanks for the footage though. Maybe you can show me your demon side next time you need to save me._

Laxus types with a smile, absently noting that having a conversation with the vigilante had the same easy, free-flowing feeling that he felt when he talked with Freed. Well, at least before the awkwardness of the kiss that had almost happened between them. Now, whenever they spoke, it was always forced and seemed to Laxus as if they were doing it out of obligation. He missed being able to speak to his friends like this, there was something calming about it.

**From: UnregisteredA**

_I'd rather you not get involved in criminals at all. But I suppose, if I had to save you, I could show off a little. For such a pretty damsel._

Laxus rolled his eyes, though felt a smirk roll onto his features. The taunting cocky attitude reminded him of two things. One, why he first found the guy to be hot in the first place. And two, Freed. He tried to focus on the former point, because thinking about Freed would remind him how messed up their relationship had become as of late. He needed to distract himself from that, and right now he had a perfect way to do it.

**To: UnregisteredA**

_I'm honoured and insulted. Demon you better be worth it._

**To: UnregisteredA**

_So, I know it's a little odd to ask, given how we met, and we've only actually seen each other twice, but d'you mind if we keep talking? Been going through a little shit and you remind me of a guy who I kinda fucked up with. A distraction would be nice._

The moment he pressed sent in his second email, he felt nauseous. He probably shouldn't have half-vented his feelings about Freed to a guy who he barely knew, and then openly admit he wanted to form a relationship with the vigilante simply as a distraction, but he was desperate. He missed speaking to Freed like this and found himself craving it, and although it wasn't exactly the same as it was with Freed, this was a close second.

He was just about to log off and forget his stupid suggestion, when his email tone went off again. He looked down and found himself smiling at the response he had gotten.

**From: UnregisteredA**

_That would be nice. A distraction would be good for me too._

* * *

**_Saturday September 7th, 2019, Early Evening._ **

"Incoming call from Laxus: Persona."

The female voice of his earpiece spoke robotically into his ear, informing him that Laxus had called him; or, more accurately, he had called his vigilante persona. It was becoming a regular occurrence and as Freed raised his hand to his ear and activated his voice changing runes, he felt a small smile paint itself onto his face.

After speaking with Laxus through email for about a week, the blonde had asked for the Vigilante's phone number. Freed hadn't replied immediately, knowing Laxus would recognise his actual phone number immediately but also not wanting to risk stopping his new form of communication with Laxus. He had pulled out his old phone that he had yet to dispose of, brought a cheap contract that gave him unlimited calls, and given that number to Laxus. He transferred all calls from Laxus into his normal phone and could now take any calls from the blonde while on patrol. Balancing himself on the edge of the building he stood on, he took the call.

"Mr Dreyar," He spoke in his demonic tone. "A pleasure to hear your voice again."

He heard a small laugh come through his ear as he looked down the alleyways under him. He had heard through his police radio hack that drug dealers had been frequenting this backstreet, and that they were dealing exclusively with a drug that the police called Spitfire. He hadn't been able to fully understand how bad this drug was, but they were treating it with the same gravitas as Crack, so he would try and stop the dealers whenever possible.

"Nice to hear your echoed bullshit voice," Laxus chuckled, and Freed felt his smile grow. "You ever gonna let me know anything about you?"

Freed let out a small laugh; Laxus had asked a pretty loaded question without realising it. "Maybe one day."

He watched with narrowed eyes as a young man came down the alleyway and rested against the streetlamp placed there. He was wearing a baseball cap and a large coat despite the pretty warm weather, so it was a pretty good guess that he was the drug dealer the police wanted. He would keep watch for now, not wanting to act before he could be sure.

"Look forward to that day," Laxus' voice was slightly tinny through his earpiece. "You on patrol?"

"Of course," Freed nodded, despite being on a call with the man. He would only answer the phone in his vigilante persona when on patrol, just in case Laxus decided to make him his next story and wanted to track his phone. "And you?"

"At home," Laxus said, and Freed thought he heard a yawn somewhere between the words. "Just had a pizza. Highlight of my day."

Frowning a little, Freed looked up from the potential drug dealer. Laxus wasn't one to be openly forlorn, but his relationship with Freed's vigilante self allowed Laxus to be more open about how he was feeling. He suspected that, as they didn't exactly know each other personally, Laxus felt as though he could be open about his feelings as they weren't close enough for repercussions to happen. If Laxus didn't have to face his emotions directly, then he forget that he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable.

Still, the two men had been working in the office throughout the day. They had already released the Oración Seis story over two weeks ago and had been dealing with interview requests from other media outlets since. The media frenzy was dying down, meaning they had been given time to catch up on their normal work.

But the issue that made Freed pause was that Laxus hadn't shown any negativity while he worked.

In fact, he still seemed to be riding off the high of his report. The Oración Seis had been pretty much obliterated, as were their clients, and the police were investigating pretty much everything the family had done in the last ten years. The Raijinshuu had been given a large amount of credit for shining a light onto this issue, the video that Freed had taken had gone viral, and all four of them had gained a pretty big career boost. Laxus seemed to enjoy everything that had happened, so to hear him acting like he was concerned Freed.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, looking back down to the alleyway. "You usually sound as joyful as a kid in a candy store."

"Asshole," Laxus chuckled a little at the sarcasm. "And I don't know. Just feel a little crap right now?"

"Did something happen?" Freed found himself asking before he could stop himself.

"Nothing big or anything, just kind of a rough day at work?"

Freed frowned, either Laxus was lying or he was considerably better at hiding his emotions that Freed had given him credit for. He tried to shake off the feeling that he had missed something bothering Laxus by glaring down at the alleyway again, watching as someone also covered completely walked down. Perhaps focusing on the potential drug dealing would make him feel less responsible for Laxus' mood.

This was something that immediately was disproven when the newcomer to the alley walked straight past the supposed drug dealer and to the other side of the building. So there went the distraction then.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered, keeping his eyes down.

"You some kind of therapist now?" Laxus joked slightly.

"How do you know that isn't what I do as a day job?" Freed retorted with a grin.

"Good point," Laxus sounded as though he was smiling as he spoke. "It wasn't like anything bad happened, not really. It's just, I don't know… you know when we started emailing and I said I needed to distract myself from something. I'm starting to think that maybe I shouldn't have stayed distracted for so long, 'cause it ain't fun."

"I thought you enjoyed your work."

Freed knew that his statement was weak and unhelpful, but he felt a certain level of guilt. Assuming he was right in his guess Laxus wanted a distraction from the deterioration of their relationship, it felt as though he was spying on his friend.

"It ain't the job," Laxus seemed to sigh. "The guy who sits across from me, basically my partner. I've kinda wanted, I don't know, just something to happen with him. And it nearly did, and then it didn't, and we haven't been talked about it since it nearly happened. And that just feels shit."

The tone in which Laxus was speaking told Freed that this was something that he had wanted to get off his chest for quite some time, and Freed couldn't say he didn't feel the same way.

"And the worse thing is, it just feels weird around him now," Laxus continued. "Like, I used to be closer to him than anyone else, and now it feels like we have to avoid talking about anything serious just in case we start talking about the time I nearly kissed the fucker. So it's just, one stupid misjudged thing I did when I was kinda drunk and I pushed him away. And now it's gone on for so fucking long that it'll be more awkward if we do talk about it now. And it just hit me today how shit it all feels."

"What happened today?"

He wasn't proud of himself for asking, but Freed couldn't help himself. Although he missed the easy conversation that occurred between him and Laxus, he also had felt the absence of their serious conversations. He had never been altogether confident in his emotions, and Freed had often had to help him when he was vulnerable.

The issue now was that Laxus was vulnerable because of him. He could either help him without Laxus knowing it was him or leave him in the state of emotional hell. It was the sadness in Laxus' voice that made Freed's choice for him.

"I just looked at him and though, holy shit," Laxus confessed. "He was just so… fucking perfect. Like, a guy can be handsome or hot or whatever, and you can appreciate it then move on. Like, I know you're pretty good looking, but knowing that isn't gonna change my life. But with him, when I was looking at him, he just personified everything. He was handsome, sexy, beautiful, soft, rugged, intimidating and inviting and fucking everything. It's like, I had the gold standard of men and I fucked it up."

"You can't be sure of that," Freed spoke softly. "Maybe the reason he hasn't addressed the issue is the same reason you haven't. Maybe he just doesn't know how."

"Well, the bastards just as stubborn as me. Pretty big achievement," Laxus laughed, and Freed found himself joining in on it. "But in that moment, I just wanted to scream that we need to cut the bullshit, we should be together. You ever felt like that?"

"Yes," Freed admitted, blushing slightly. Even if he only said one word, it was the first time he had outwardly admitted his feelings for the blonde. "I guess I do."

"You got any ideas on what the hell we should do about it?" Laxus asked, and Freed almost laughed at just how appropriate the use of the word 'we' was in the situation. He didn't laugh though, instead he ran a hand through his hair as he sat back on the top of the roof.

"We should do what men like us should always do, I suppose," Freed sighed. "Get over our damn selves and follow our instincts."

"Yeah," Laxus said, and Freed could guess he nodded slightly. "Yeah, I think I might have needed to hear someone tell me that. Thanks. You don't mind if leave ya right now, do ya? I'm gonna go, do it now before I lose the balls. Thanks man."

The line went dead before Freed could reply, and a swirl of emotions filled the vigilante's stomach. The main question attacking his mind was if he had the right to give any suggestions to Laxus, but he had tried to be as ambiguous in his advice as he could. He didn't directly say for Laxus to ask him out – if that was what he was going to do – as he had just said for the man to follow his instincts. And he hadn't lead him to that conclusion, all he did was ask the questions that would allow Laxus to get his troubles off his mind.

And what was he meant to do? Laxus was a closed book, and if Freed hadn't shown him sympathy and a listening ear in that moment, the blonde would have closed up even more than normal. He was clearly hurting, so cutting himself off from his emotions entirely would be the worse thing to do.

'Shit.' Freed thought as he looked down. The dealer was gone.

"Incoming call from Laxus Dreyar."

The sudden voice in his ear informing him that Laxus was calling him, rather than his vigilante persona, made Freed jolt where he sat. As he dispelled the runes on his arm that changed his voice, he realised that they hadn't called each other since before their almost kiss. It wasn't like it was a regular occurrence before, but he found himself engulfed in a comforting sense of familiarity at the fact it was happening again.

"Laxus," He greeted in his actual voice after accepting the call. "Is something wrong."

"No," Laxus said. "Well, yeah actually. I'm sick of avoiding it. We nearly kissed, it happened. And honestly, I want to kiss you. A hell of a lot. And every fucking time I see you, there's something that screams at me to kiss you. I wish I had that night, I wish I had the day after, and I've been wishing I had ever since. And that's it.

"So, I know we've got this party to celebrate the article, and I know you ain't a big party guy, but if you want then maybe we can go together. If you don't want to, then obviously that's fine, but I'd really fucking love it you could be my date. So, yeah. Balls in your court now."

Freed paused, unable to stop himself from smiling. He had always suspected Laxus was putting on a slight act with his vigilante self, like he was showing his better side. But this was the true Laxus: a slightly socially awkward man that, although he might not be the most in tune with his emotions, he had the courage to stick to his convictions and put himself out there no matter the risk it had to him. This was the man he had fallen for.

"It would be my honour," Freed replied.

As Laxus fumbled through an expression of gratitude accompanied with a lot of unneeded profanity – something that made Freed wish this was happening face to face, as Laxus would be incredibly endearing to look at – the vigilante made a promise to himself. He'd been lying to the blonde for too long. If they were to have a relationship, Laxus needed to know who he was.

On the night of their date, he would have to reveal himself as Magnolia's vigilante.

* * *

**_Friday September 13th, 2019, Early Evening._ **

"Hey, sorry I'm a little late. There was a little- holy shit."

Laxus was standing at Freed's door as he cut himself off, resisting the urge to let his mouth fall agape. Looking up at Freed, he felt his breath hitch and his heart swell. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, his hair tied low in a style that Laxus had never seen, and his face blessed with the softest of smiles as he looked up towards Laxus. The blonde found himself unable to point out a single flaw on the man before him, not that he was going to try to.

He must have been quiet for too long, because Freed raised an eyebrow and his smile took on an amused quality. Laxus felt himself blushing slightly as he shook his head, trying to remove himself from the trance that Freed had put him in.

"Sorry. You look great, that's all," He mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Freed's cheek. Only after did he realise what he had done, and blushed again. "Sorry, you don't mind do you?"

"No, it was good," Freed smiled, Laxus' hear swelling. "And you look good too."

"Thanks," Laxus smiled.

He found it hard to believe that he looked good when compared to the man before him. Laxus himself was also dressed in a suit, white with golden trimmings and a black shirt beneath it. He knew he looked good in his formal attire, but Freed seemed like he belonged in the clothes he wore, and damn did he look good. The blonde now kicked himself for missing all the company dinners that Freed had attended, as each dinner would have given Laxus the chance to see Freed looking as handsome as he was in that moment.

Though, Laxus suspected Freed would look good in anything he wore.

The photographer stepped from the threshold of his apartment and locked the door behind him. Laxus smiled as they walked down the hallways of Freed's building and towards the elevator. They didn't hold hands, nor did they link arms, but the occasional brushings of elbows and knuckles was enough to make Laxus giddy.

After he had taken the leap and asked Freed onto this date, with help from the Vigilante, it seemed as though his relationship with Freed had become something more normal again. They could speak together with ease, were happy to go on assignments together whereas before they would have been somewhat hesitant, and Laxus found himself enjoying his work a hell of a lot more than he when they had been awkward around each other. The only difference was an added subtle flirtation between them; something that didn't go missed by Bickslow and Evergreen.

Bickslow hadn't been subtle with his 'at last' attitude when they had confessed that they would be going to the party as each other's date.

As they entered the elevator, Laxus found himself amused by his own awkwardness. The odd flirtatious comment or teasing had been easy during their work hours, but now they were faced with the actual date he was acting clumsy around Freed. It was fine to be nervous about this though, it meant he was taking their date seriously.

"Did you manage to talk your grandfather out of making you give a speech?" Freed asked, making Laxus groan.

"He said he wouldn't," The blonde spoke with a small pout. "But he had this fucking look on his face. Think he's just gonna make me do it anyway and told me he wouldn't so I wont plan it out and I'll make an ass outta myself."

"He wouldn't do that," At Freed's words, Laxus looked towards him with a raised eyebrow. He still looked beautiful. "Point taken. If he does, we'll just dig up some blackmail on him."

Laxus grinned, biting his tongue slightly as he fought the temptation to explain that the mischievous side of the photographer was one of the things he loved about the man. As socially awkward as he may be, even he knew that the word love shouldn't be said on the first date; not even if it was contained to a single attribute of the man. Or, more specifically, multiple attributes of the man that covered pretty much everything about him.

So avoiding the subject of love was for the best.

A soft, easy atmosphere now forming around them both, they left the apartment building and walked towards the limousine that had been organised for them both; the Raijinshuu were the guests of honour, after all. The car was meant for all four of the team, but Ever and Bickslow had sacrificed their seats so that Freed and Laxus could spend some of their night alone.

As they walked to the car, Laxus found his mind wonder slightly to the Vigilante. He couldn't be sure if this date would even be happening if the man hadn't told him to stop putting the conversation off.

It was odd. The moment he had asked Freed on the date, he not only felt a sense of relief from finally talking his relationship further with Freed, he also seemed to lack the sense of dependence of the vigilante that he had grown accustomed to. The phone calls that, at that point, had occurred at least every other day now didn't happen, and the last time he had contacted the Vigilante was because he wanted to thank the man a final time. That had happened over a week ago.

Somehow, it felt as though the vigilante was some kind of imaginary friend. Now that he had finished with his issues with Freed, he didn't need the vigilante anymore.

"You okay?" Laxus looked up at Freed's voice, seeing the photographer holding open the car door.

"Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought," He sent an appeasing grin to the man as he closed the distance between them both, climbing into the vehicle as Freed held the door for him. When Freed sat beside him, the blonde smirked. "So you're gonna be a gentleman tonight, then?"

"Somebody has to be," Freed smirked. "And I can't imagine a ruffian such as yourself being able to step up in that regard."

As Laxus opened his mouth to retort the obvious teasing, he felt his right hand be lifted up slightly by his date and soft cold lips press themselves against his knuckled. The blonde paused where he sat, slowly looking down to see the eyes of his date that were somehow both angelic and demonic at the same time.

The feeling of Freed's lips against his skin had sent a shiver around Laxus' body, and Freed clearly knew it. he was just glad that the teasing expression on the photographer's face became nothing more, because hearing a joke at his expense from his date may shut him down entirely.

Driving to the company building where the party was happening didn't take long, or at least it didn't seem like a long time as once the conversation started up again it didn't stop. Laxus found himself incredibly glad that he could be like this with Freed again, his distraction in the Vigilante having made him forgot just how much a hole had been created when Freed wasn't fully in his life. Being able to enjoy the man's company so openly, it was perfect, and the idea that they could become more intimate without losing that friendship sent electricity through Laxus' body. It was a thrilling possibility, and one Laxus was determined to make real.

When they arrived outside of the office, Laxus made sure to get out of the car first and hold the door open for Freed. The photographer may have been joking before, but Laxus would be damned if he let the man think he was right. Freed simply chuckled and smiled at his actions.

"The perfect gentleman," He assured Laxus, who smirked at the idiocy of his actions and the fact that Freed was willing to play along.

Entering the building, they saw that the desks of the ground floor had been removed and replaced to make the room look as though it was a ballroom. Given that it had been a fully functioning news room earlier in the day, the change was shocking and impressive. Laxus and Freed both walked in side by side, the soft music of the jazz band setting a pleasant atmosphere as they looked around their colleagues.

Some people acknowledged them, some people congratulated them on their article and the effect it was having, and some people didn't notice them. In Laxus' mind, this was a victory. He would much rather have this kind of reception than some cringe inducing applause as they came in; and he suspected Freed felt the same way.

"Thank you asking me to come here," Freed spoke almost softly. "I know I would have been here anyway, but it feels better being here with you, rather than just alongside you. If truth be told, I missed you. And I'm glad we're trying this."

Laxus felt his heart swell slightly at the confession. "I'm glad too."

With a small burst of courage given to him by Freed's words, Laxus leant down slightly and pressed his lips against Freed's. It was a split-second kiss, chaste and innocent, but it sent a flurry of passion throughout the blonde's body that made him crave for more. Despite it being a cliché, he felt like he had been struck like lighting in the few short moments their lips had touched.

When he pulled back, both he and Freed were blushing. It was subtle, but the redness of the other mans cheeks made Laxus smile softly. He could only hope that he was see that slightly dazed expression on Freed's face again after being the cause of it.

"Wow," Laxus whispered, smiling. "Pretty fucking good."

"Yeah," Freed agreed, also smiling. "We should make a habit of doing that."

Laxus laughed, nodding slightly as he stood up straight again. He found his eyes couldn't leave Freed as they both calmed slightly, standing in the middle of the room. Freed must have got control over his blush before Laxus could – the blonde could still feel his cheeks burning – and he let out a small laugh.

"I'll get us some drinks," Freed offered, Laxus nodding. As Freed walked Laxus, he placed a hand on his arm and Laxus' skin tingled despite the two layers of clothing. He frowned slightly as Freed spoke again. "Good luck."

The blonde frowned at Freed's words, and pivoted so he could look to whatever Freed was speaking of. He let out a slightly defeated laugh as he saw exactly what Freed was wishing him luck over; Mirajane was walking towards him with quite possibly the largest smile on her face humanly possible. She was known to be a pretty big gossip and, as they hadn't been secretive about their kiss, it was obvious that Mirajane had seen it and had a lot of questions. And Freed had left Laxus to her mercy bastard.

He would have done the same thing, though. The guy was perfect for him.

The moment Mirajane had closed the distance between them both, the questions started to come. When had it happened? Was this a date? Was this their  _first_  date? Had they secretly been together for years and was that why Freed had denied her offers to set them up? Laxus would have to ask Freed about that last one later, but he couldn't do it when the barrage of questions continued. How she managed to speak so much without losing her breath astounded Laxus.

Although he tried to answer as many questions as he could, it was hard to remember all he had asked. Still, she seemed too preoccupied by the fact that he and Freed were on a date to care all that much that he had missed out some of her questions.

As she calmed herself slightly, Laxus allowed his gaze to drift slightly. Freed had picked up two glasses of what Laxus assumed was champagne and was waiting by bar by himself. At first Laxus assumed he was waiting there just so he could avoid the force of nature and her endless questioning, but he could see that Freed's smile had slipped slightly and he looked almost panicked. Well, as panicked as a man so in control of his emotions could be. He excused himself form Mirajane before she could say anything and walked towards his date with a small expression of concern on his face.

"You okay?" He asked, Freed's head snapping up to him. "You look a little… on edge."

"I'm fine," He said, voice wavering slightly. That concerned Laxus. "Sorry, do you mind if we go to the office for a moment, I need to talk to you about something."

Laxus frowned, but nodded, and they both made their way to the staircase. The short walk to their private office filled Laxus with apprehension as to what had happened in the few moments that would make the usually unwavering man suddenly calm up and ask to speak in private. His immediate reaction was that maybe Freed had realised after the kiss that he didn't want anything romantic with him, and even though it was an unconfirmed thought it still hurt like a bitch.

When they entered the office, Freed pulled his desk chair out so that it was next to Laxus' desk, a silent invitation for the blonde to sit. The blonde did so, speaking before he could give Freed the chance to beat him to it.

"This isn't… you ain't gonna tell me you regret coming as my date, right?" Laxus asked, willing his voice not to break. Freed's head snapped up again, and he seemed shocked at the suggestion.

"No. Go no. Being here with you, its wonderful. In fact, it's practically the opposite," Freed assured Laxus, and the blonde felt his anxiety drop considerably. "When we kissed, it made me aware of how much I want something with you, and that I'd happily be with you for as long as possible. But if that's going to happen, I need to be honest with you in a way that I haven't been for a long time now."

Laxus didn't restrain his frown. Although to hear that Freed wanted to have an actual relationship with him was fantastic – it really was – the idea that Freed had been lying to him made him nervous. He couldn't think of anything his photographer could have bene lying about, certainly not something that would be so important that Freed would feel the need to confess it before he could have any kind of romance with him. The lack of knowing gave Laxus a sense of dread in his stomach, and he silently motioned for his date to continue, not yet trusting his voice.

"I'm not quite sure how to say it, so I think I'll just show you," When Freed spoke, his voice was almost cautious.

The photographer slowly removed his blazer and placed it on the back of his chair, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his left forearm. Although Laxus wanted to voice his confusion – there was nothing irregular about the part of his body he was showing – he trusted that this was something important enough for Freed to take seriously, so he kept his mouth shut.

Without either man speaking, glowing purple shapes appeared on Freed's skin. They were the same shapes that Laxus had come to relate to the vigilante. A moment later, his arms started to mutate exactly the same way the vigilante's did, and his hand turned to the exact same claw.

What the fuck?

He looked up to see that Freed's eyes were glowing a soft purple, which died down as the transformation ended. The expression Freed wore as he looked back up to Laxus – a look of reassignment, shown through a sad smile and accepting eyes – told Laxus everything he needed to know about what he had just seen.

Freed was the vigilante.

"Shit," He whispered, his mind racing as he caught up with all that would mean.

He hadn't been saved by a stranger; he had been saved by his best friend. The night of the fire he hadn't just misremembered Freed wearing a coat exactly the same that the vigilante had, he had actually seen him adorning the man's clothing. The easy conversation that he had shared with the vigilante hadn't just reminded him of the conversations he had with Freed, they were an extension to the conversations he could have with Freed.

"It was you?" He asked, looking towards Freed.

"Yes. I'm sorry," Freed's voice was soft, almost as if he were trying not to spook Laxus. "I know I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you, certainly not after we met one another while I was acting in that form. And I feel as though I have manipulated you into asking me coming here, and I do feel guilty about that."

It was now Laxus' turn to snap his head up. He hadn't considered the fact that Freed had some kind of influence on their date becoming a reality, and even now he thought about the possibility he couldn't say that the Vigilante – or Freed – had actually manipulated him in any way. It wasn't as if he had bene probing to get to the topic of his love life, and then demanded that he asked his photographer out. All he had done was say that Laxus should follow his instincts, and Laxus instincts were his and his alone.

"You didn't manipulate me," Laxus assured him. "Just gave me the kick in the ass I needed."

"Still," Freed's voice was still hesitant. "I did interfere while you didn't know who you were-"

"Freed, I wanted to ask you out the first time we worked together. I wanted to kiss you that night, and I still do," Laxus' voice was more certain that it had been before. "I'm shocked, and it's weird. Might take some time for me to get used to it, but I will. This is still a date, and I still want to be with you."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, and Laxus nodded with a small smile.

"Definitely," Laxus assured him, and Freed smiled.

Laxus leant over and pressed another kiss onto the photographer's lips. The fire and electricity still filled him when their lips touched, and that was enough for him to be totally sure that this secret was nothing really, and that once he had gotten used to it, it would be like nothing had happened and their date could continue. He let his hand rest on the man's cheek in a small act of endearment, letting Freed know without a single doubt that he wasn't going to hold any grudge or anger about this.

But then, as he removed his hand from the man's soft skin, a thought occurred to him, and his cheeks suddenly burned a brilliant red.

"I said you were hot. I told you I thought the vigilante was hot a couple times. And I told the vigilante that I thought you were sexy," He said, his voice showing his embarrassment in the realisation. "And all the time, I was just talking about you."

"I'm afraid so," Freed said with a slight laugh. "Quite the ego boost, I must say."

"Fuck, you didn't need that," Laxus chuckled, running an embarrassed hand over his face as a groan left his lips. He let himself laugh though and looked towards his date again. "You asshole."

"I suppose so," Freed agreed. "Are you sure you're okay, I'd understand if you felt like you needed to think."

"I don't need time to think, Freed. I've been thinking for months now, and I'm fucking bored of it. You've always been the guy for him, and having you be the guy to save my life without me knowing isn't gonna change that," Laxus assured him, a grin forming on his lips. "Besides, who the hell else is the damsel in distress gonna fall for."

When Freed laughed at Laxus' joke, the blonde found his heart flutter again. The tension in the room that had occurred between the two of them had lessened now and for that, Laxus was thankful. The sound of Freed' genuine, unstrained laugh was something he often found himself craving and, due to its rarity, it was something he would always cherish.

He leant forward and pressed his lips against Freed's for a third time, becoming quickly addicted to it. This time, he lingered for a second and allowed himself to fully enjoy the sensation of Freed's cold, un-chapped lips against his own.

"But," He whispered as he pulled back. "Tell anyone I called myself a damsel in distress, I'm getting every embarrassing thing you've ever done on the front cover."

"Noted," Freed said with a laugh. "We should get back soon, though."

They both stood up and, as Freed went to walk to the door, Laxus grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He placed both hands on the man's waist and allowed their bodies to press against each other softly, staring at his date and hero in adoration. He slowly started to lean down again, intending to pull Freed into another kiss, this time something less than chaste. Just as their lips were going to push against each other, a loud knock came from the office door.

Laxus found himself cussing under his breath. Getting cut off before a kiss better not become a regular thing.

"You two better not be intending to spent the whole night in there," The voice was undeniably from Makarov, and it contained a teasing tone. "You might not be able to keep your hands off each other, but there's a crowd out there wanting a speech from the lead author of the most read story of the year."

"Fucking knew he would do that," Laxus hissed, only slightly wanting to throttle his grandfather. "Time to make a dick out of myself, I guess."

He tried to untangle himself from Freed but found himself still pushed against his date. He looked down at Freed with a soft, questioning look, to which Freed simply smiled in response. "If you think that it's your fate to fall for me, then it's my fate to keep my love safe, wouldn't you think?"

Before Laxus could reply, Freed leant upwards and pressed their lips together. They moved slowly, showing more passion than they had in the few instances that they had kissed before. Laxus wrapped his arms around Freed's waist closer as he slowly, tentatively licked the bottom of Freed's lips in a silent request for entrance. Freed's eagerness was obvious, as the next moment their kiss became more impassioned as their tongues batted against one another.

As they kissed, Laxus felt a tingling sensation overcome his body. It was unique, and as he opened his eyes, he saw that Freed was disintegrating into the purple shapes that his magic was made form. He then saw that he was doing the same things. His hero was saving him from embarrassment, it seemed.

Yeah, dating a vigilante who happened to be the love of his life was something he could get used to. Definitely.


End file.
